Archive for the 'Soups + Stew' Category

With the help of Grandma and my aunts these past couple of years, I’ve learned how to prepare almost every noodle soup that I giddily slurped as a child and hungrily craved as an adult. Grandma taught me how to tame pho bo and bo kho from her home kitchen, while my aunts showed me the ins and outs of bun rieu and hu tieu through detailed emails and patient telephone calls.

I’ve amassed quite a repertoire of recipes on this site over the years, preserving a small piece of family history in the process and guaranteeing that all future cravings are swiftly satisfied.

Most recently, Grandma and I tackled bun bo Hue, a complex and heady beef noodle soup scented with lemongrass, packed with pork trotters, and littered with congealed pigs’ blood.

While the city of Hue is known for its spicy fare, Grandma’s version of the former imperial capital’s famous noodle soup is quite tame because she’s needed to refine and adjust it over time to placate the palates of her American-born, spice-averse grandchildren. What can I say? My cousins and I were weak when it came to heat when we were younger.

The most magical part of making bun bo Hue happens around hour three when the beef, pork, and lemongrass broth is transformed into the familiar fiery orange soup. Grandma uses a sizzling mixture of vegetable oil, scallions, fish sauce, and paprika to impart the broth with its characteristically bright hue and rich, umami flavor. Never in a million years would I have guessed that a jar of paprika resided in Grandma’s cupboard for this very recipe.

A heavy dose of fermented shrimp paste, along with a touch of sugar and salt, add the finishing touches to the broth. The soup is ready to be served when the slices of beef and the pigs’ feet are both perfectly tender, after approximately 4 hours total.

To prepare the broth, begin by cleaning the pigs’ feet under running water to remove any bits of bone debris that the butcher left behind. Don’t forget to run your fingers beneath the skin where unsightly debris may have gotten trapped.

Place the cleaned pigs’ feet and beef shank in a large stockpot filled with enough water to submerge them and bring to a boil. The shank and feet are full of impurities, so once the water comes to a boil, dump it out and collect the feet and shank in a colander.

I made my very first Vietnamese noodle soup (without grandma looking over my shoulder) on the eve before New Year’s eve. The Astronomer’s mother adores bún riêu, a northern specialty featuring thin rice noodles, a tangy broth, stewed tomatoes, and crab clusters, so I decided to prepare it for the Chaplin clan while visiting Birmingham.

Since this was a spur-of-the-moment idea, The Astronomer and I had to source all of the ingredients locally. Fortunately, a well-stocked Vietnamese grocery store nearby carried everything that we needed, from vermicelli noodles to fermented shrimp paste. Alabama, you surprise me all the time!

I imagine that these sort of semi-homemade recipes were developed within the Vietnamese community living outside Vietnam during a time when fresh crabs and tamarind weren’t readily accessible or were perhaps too pricy to afford. These recipes continue to persevere even with the availability of fresh ingredients because they’re not only convenient but are legitimately delicious.

I was so damn stoked with my first pot of bún riêu that I went ahead and made another vat yesterday at home in Pasadena. My resolution for 2012 is to stop being such a wuss when it comes to preparing Vietnamese foods at home. So far, so good.

In a large stock pot over medium heat, add the oil along with the white parts of the scallions. Saute the scallions for 30 seconds, then add the tomatoes and saute for an additional 2 minutes or until the tomatoes begin to sweat.

Add the stock or water into the pot and turn the heat to medium-high. Season the broth with fish sauce, shrimp sauce, and tamarind soup mix. Adjust the seasonings based on whether you want it saltier (more fish sauce), sourer (more tamarind), or funkier (more shrimp sauce). Let the broth simmer on medium-low heat while preparing the crab mixture. Be careful not to let the broth boil or the tomatoes will turn to mush.

After carving all of the meat from the soy-brined turkey, I didn’t think anything of chucking the carcass straight into the trash. However, as soon as the bones hit the liner, I instantly remembered that roasted bones equals kick ass broth, and immediately fished them out of the bin.

Since I had just spent the better part of the day cooking, I was glad to find a turkey broth recipe that was relatively hands-off and called for ingredients that I already had at home. Two hours of slow and low simmering extracted the turkey’s flavors into an all-purpose broth that eventually became the base for turkey noodle soup a few days later.

While I knew I would enjoy the turkey noodle soup, I wasn’t expecting to love it so much. Following many meals of turkey, stuffing, and cranberry sauce, the soup offered a light yet still very comforting change of pace. And of course, it made great use of the leftover turkey meat that we had in abundance.

I ate my bowls of turkey noodle with slices of avocado on top, which took the already standout dish to a whole new level. Why can’t all leftovers be this successful?

For turkey broth

1 turkey carcass, cut into 4 or 5 pieces

1 onion, chopped coarse

1 carrot, peeled and chopped coarse

1 rib celery, chopped coarse

1 bay leaf

1 tablespoon minced fresh thyme or 1 teaspoon dried

3 quarts water

For turkey noodle soup

1 recipe turkey broth

1 onion, minced

2 carrots, peeled and sliced thin

1 rib celery, sliced thin

Salt

8 ounces noodles

2 cups cooked turkey meat, shredded

2 tablespoons minced fresh parsley

Pepper

Make turkey broth

Bring all of the ingredients to a simmer [when the liquid is at a gentle simmer, you see a few small bubbles breaking the surface every few seconds] in a large stockpot and cook for 2 hours, skimming off any fat or foam that rises to the surface.

Strain the broth through a large mesh strainer into a large container, removing any fat that rises to the surface as it cools. This broth can be cooled, covered, and refrigerated for up to 3 days or frozen for up to 2 months.

Given my great love of restaurants and their hardly healthful fare, it’s really important that my meals at home provide nutrients that otherwise go missing from my diet. Whenever I’m not painting the town red, I prepare recipes that make tasty use of whole grains, legumes, and vegetables. My subscription to Cooking Lightmagazine has been a great source of inspiration, and of course, the internet is chock full of solid ideas on how to balance the excess in my life.

The majority of the healthy dishes that I prepare serve their nutritional purpose and taste mostly decent, but they’re usually not outstanding enough to be featured on the site. This vegetarian three bean chili is a rare exception. In addition to being a fiberfull powerhouse, this meatless stew is also immensely satisfying. The heat from the chipotles combined with the smoky chili powder makes for an exciting and spicy flavor profile. The trio of beans provide just enough heft to fill one up nicely. Paired with some old fashioned cornbread, it’s impossible to feel deprived when one is eating this well.

Heat the oil in a large Dutch oven over medium heat until shimmering. Add the onions, bell pepper, chili powder, and cumin. Cook until the vegetables have softened, about 7 minutes. Stir in the garlic and cook for 15 seconds.

Stir in the tomatoes with their juice, water, chilies, and 1/2 teaspoon salt. Bring to a simmer, cover, and cook for 30 minutes.